


P is for Pregnant

by freedomatsea



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomatsea/pseuds/freedomatsea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The consequences of a one night stand in Neverland catch up to Emma Swan and Killian Jones as they embark on the choppy waters of parenthood either together or alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	P is for Pregnant

01\. P is for Puzzle

"Emma, sweetie, the phone's for you." Mary Margaret held up the receiver for Emma to see.  
  
"Who is it?"   
  
"A triage nurse from the hospital." Mary Margaret replied, moving over to stir the pot of oatmeal on the stove. She glanced over her shoulder at Emma, watching her as she grumbled, rubbing at her eyes in a vain attempt to wake up more before answering the phone.  
  
"Hey, it's Emma." Her eyes widened a little, "Are you _sure_?" She looked up and caught Mary Margaret staring and she turned her back to her slowly, keeping her voice low as she spoke. “It was about a month ago I guess.... Yes I know _exactly_ who... Alright, thank you... I guess. I'll make an appointment later today... You too."  
  
She slowly hung up the phone, her head bowed forward as she tried to catch her breath and keep from breaking down. Shit had hit the fan. Emma kept her eyes low, avoiding her mother’s perceptive gaze.   
  
"Emma?" Mary Margaret took the pot off of the burner, laying the oven mitt on the counter and turning around to cross her arms and stare daggers at the blond. When she didn’t freely give up what was wrong, she questioned her. "Is everything alright?"   
  
"Everything is right as rain.” Emam grabbed a Poptart from the closet, tearing the wrapper open and shoving a decent sized piece into her mouth to keep from having to answer anything else right then and there. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her words muffled as she chewed. “Can you tell David when he comes out of the shower that I need to go to the docks before I come into work?" She shuffled her feet as she moved to get the lid to her coffee mug out of the dish drainer, but the second she looked down into the coffee mug she went stone still.   
  
_Caffeine._   
  
"Shit." She muttered, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. "Do we have decaf?" She knew from prison that coffee and anything caffeinated was a no-go.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mary Margaret caught Emma’s arm when she brushed past her to look for the coffee herself. “You’re acting really weird and it’s unnerving for a mother to see her daughter like this _after_ talking to the hospital.”

Emma kept her face turned away from her, trying to gather her wits and keep calm. But the words she had to say sounded foreign and wrong and like the biggest fuck up of her life – second to the big fuck up of her teenage years. She turned slowly, shaking her arm free of the brunette’s hold. “Well, about a month ago when we were in Neverland…” She felt a shiver run up her spine as she started to speak, the memories and the feelings of that night washing over her. Mixed with dread now.

“I might have slept with Killian.” _Might have_ put it incredibly lightly. She’d had the best night of her twenty-nine years of life. For a one handed man he could do some downright amazing things.

“ _What_?”

And she should have expected that out of her mother who avidly protested the pirate at every turn.

Emma crossed her arms in front of her and let out a heavy sigh that she’d been holding in since the phone rang. “I had sex on the Jolly Roger with Killian Jones about a month ago. Which is why the doctor called. My blood work came back.” She didn’t mean to come off sounding condescending, because it wasn’t Mary Margaret that she was angry with. It was herself. “I’m pregnant.”

Mary Margaret’s head tilted and her expression dropped. “ _Emma_.”

“Please don’t Emma me.” Emma’s eyes closed and she fought to keep ahold of herself. “I need to go and tell Killian.”

“Tell Killian what?” David stepped through into the kitchen, running his fingers through his still damp hair.

Emma met her mother’s eyes and shook her head – eyes widening in an effort to keep her mother from telling him yet. “Well, I was actually going to have her tell _you_ that I’m going down to the docks to talk to Killian.”

“About what?” He asked curiously, pouring himself a mug of coffee, eyeing his daughter curiously. “Is something wrong?”

“Both of you need to stop being so goddamn perceptive.” Emma’s lips pressed together thin and she shoved another bite of Poptart in her mouth, even though she didn’t feel remotely hungry now.

“Is there something that he deserves to be punched for?” David chuckled, but the laugh was short lived when Mary Margaret slapped his arm. “Okay, _ow_ , what was that for? What’s going on?”

Emma cringed, “I’m pregnant.”

“ _What_?”

“You see, this is exactly why I wasn’t going to tell you yet. I need to talk to Killian before you kill him.”

“When did this happen?”

Emma crossed her arms, “I can give you specifics if that’s what you want. And before you get all defensive – I actually kinda started the whole entire thing that night so you can’t blame him.”

“Em-”

“Nope.” Emma shook her head, starting to back towards the door. “I’m _so_ not having this conversation with the two of you right now. Okay? It’s not like I’ve never fucked up before. But this time…” She trailed off, shaking her head a little more solemnly this time. This time, the baby was going to have his or her father.

She knew that Killian wanted a family. They had had that conversation on the ship. How much it had meant to him when he _thought_ he would have a family – how they both knew what it felt like to have it in the palm of your hand and have it ripped away from you.

She knew he was jealous that she _still_ had it and he had nothing.

“I’ll be at the station later.” Emma gave her parents a tight lipped smile, grabbing the half eaten Poptart and rushing out of the house before anything else could be said to her.

She was barely holding it together.

The moment that she was in the bug alone and able to let the realization hit her completely, without having an audience watching her was the moment that she cracked. The air rushed from her lungs, her pulse pounding in her ears, making her feel like the world was closing in on her. A panic attack – something she’d become far too accustomed to when she was in prison. Because no matter how many times she’d convinced herself she’d have her baby and she’d have her life when she got free – she had known that he’d be taken from her no sooner than he was born. No one was going to be waiting for her on the other side.

But Killian _wasn’t_ Neal. She _wasn’t_ seventeen.

Emma bowed her head, pressing her forehead against the steering wheel. She could feel tears threatening to escape her eyes. She just had to keep reminding herself that this _could_ work.

They were on good terms, even if they pretended that they weren’t. There was something there that they were both afraid of and they kept it at bay by pretending that the other didn’t exist. But then he’d turn up at the station or she’d go down to the docks. And they knew they were trying to see each other, without making it obvious. But they both _knew_. The just never said it in so many words.

The drive to the docks was inordinately longer than it usually was and even that didn’t give her enough time to figure out what she was going to tell him. You didn’t just walk up onto the ship and announce to the man you’d slept with a month ago that you were pregnant. It wasn’t the simple. Nothing was ever simple and it would _never_ be simple if either of them were involved.

The docks were quiet. Lerory and the other men were probably at the mines today. Or maybe still at Granny’s having breakfast. Thinking about where _anyone_ else was, was easier than thinking about where she was.

“Ahoy lass.”

Emma shielded the sun from her eyes as she looked up to the deck of the Jolly Roger, spotting Killian climbing down from the mast. His boots thumped against the boards of the deck as he jumped down the last length of the mast. “Shall I lower the gangplank for you?”

Her mouth felt dry and the one little word that escaped her lips cracked as it hit the air. “ _Yes_.” She pushed her hands into her jean pockets, her eyes flickering closed as she inhaled – steadying herself. “I can do this.” She muttered to herself, forcing a smile when she felt his gaze on her.

“You alright there, love?” Killian’s voice was strained as he moved the heavy plank into place. He tilted his head, looking down at the blond curiously. “You don’t even have to answer, judging by that expression, something’s amiss.”

Emma swallowed thickly, starting up the gangplank. “You have no idea.” She gave him a look that warranted no smart ass remarks from him. “Do you think we could go in your cabin and talk?”

Killian arched a brow, lips parting to say something that he quickly chose not to say. “Right this way.” His eyes lingered on her face a moment longer before he turned on his heels and headed straight towards his cabin.

Emma shuffled her feet as she walked and she felt like she was seventeen again. For a moment the memories of walking through into the little meeting room to talk to child services f lashed in front of her, making her heart clench. She wasn’t _her_ anymore. Those walls that she carefully built up around herself after losing Henry, losing everyone, were crumbling – _had_ been crumbling, since the day that Killian Jones was pulled from beneath a pile of dead bodies and he looked up at her with those impossibly blue eyes and life changed.

“Well, Swan, out with it. What’s wrong?” Killian crossed his arms across his chest, giving off an air of indignation as a front. His boot tapped against the floor and his eyes narrowed at her.

She inhaled sharply, preparing herself, “Do you remember back in Neverland… When we were talking about our pasts – after a half a bottle of rum was gone – and you told me that _all_ you ever wanted was a family with Milah? That you’d gone back, against her wishes, to retrieve her son so that you could have the family you always dreamed of?” He nodded and she continued, “And I told you how I always wanted a family and I wanted to settle down and live the dream life even if it was out of the back of a car? And I _almost_ had that with Neal, but he left me and I went to jail and I ended up losing that little bright spot in my life for ten years until he found me?”

“What does all of this have to do with any bloody thing?”

“I’m pregnant.”

That was a hell of a lot blunter than Emma had planned for it to be. She’d wanted to have an easy edge into it, soften the blow with something else. But instead that was what he got.

“ _What_?” Killian’s voice was low and gravely, tinged with anger and a hint of fear. And it caught her off guard.

Emma’s eyes fluttered and she looked down to the ground, “Well that was the night you first kissed me and the next night I came back because _apparently_ I’m an idiot.” She looked up then and she met blue eyes that were full of unexpected anger. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.” Emma snapped, finding her voice finally. “I didn’t _plan_ for this to happen it was mistake.”

Killian stood unmoving, his eyes glued to her face. No words past his lips.

“Alright then.” Emma rolled her eyes, turning away from and heading straight for the door.

“Swan! Wait.”

How many times had they said words like that to one another?

Emma turned back, “What?”

“I’m not angry at you.” He spoke softly, with more compassion than he had yet to use throughout their brief interchange. “I’m not _angry_ at anyone except myself.” His fist was tight at his side and his jaw was hard set. “I don’t deserve this Emma. This is the second chance I wanted and I do not fucking deserve this.”

Emma’s brows knit together, “Everyone deserves a second chance Killian.” She bit down on her bottom lip as she searched his eyes – it was the first time since _that_ night since she’d used his real name. “After everything you did for _me_ , you should know that second chances do happen. This is mine. This is my chance to be a mother throughout the whole process and… frankly I’m terrified because I don’t think I’m a great mother.”

“You’re an amazing mother Emma.” Killian said warmly, stepping towards her. “I’ve seen how your lad looks at you and its with nothing but complete and utter love.” He stopped before he reached her, tensing up as he stared at her. “But I can’t be the father that he deserves.” He took a step backwards then, shaking his head. “I can’t be the father for _this_ baby either.”

She wasn’t going to fight him on it. If that was his decision – so be it. She had given him a chance and now _she_ had to deal with _her_ mistake. “I understand.” Emma swallowed shakily, her eyes searching his once more before she disengaged. “I just wanted you to know. Because-” _I know how much being a father had meant to you_. “Never mind it doesn’t matter. Have a nice rest of your day.” Emma smiled at him, masking the pain. Her lips were pressed together, curving up in that almost sarcastic way, her eyes – no doubt – showing exactly what she felt inside.

Maybe he wasn’t different. Maybe she was just as naïve as before.

“ _Emma_ …?”

“Yes?” She glanced over her shoulder, her fingers curling around the handle of the door. “What is it?”

“Never mind.” Killian shook his head, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Good bye.”

She wasn’t going to come back to the docks. She wasn’t going to see him at the station. She wasn’t going to have him beside her through all of this.

It was like finding that center piece to a puzzle – it belonged to the whole puzzle, it matched everything around where you were trying to put it, but the end pieces were missing and nothing matched up. It was right, but it was wrong.

_To be continued._


End file.
